There once was a little boy who had a special gift. He was different than most boys his age. He tried but couldn't quite fit in. He was smart and as boys might be, curious and inquisitive about life and reality. He never thought of himself as special and never knew about his gift. He was just a little boy and lived life as well as he wished. He had thoughts and dreams and could be mischievous and a bit hyper at time. He wanted to experience life and he did as he could all the time. It was on one of those days that he discovered his gift. At first he wasn't sure it was his. Did everyone have a gift he thought? He asked a few of his friends what they thought. The response he got surprised him more than he could have imagined. Not only were they jealous, they also began to treat him as though he was somehow undeserving to have the gift.

In my life I have observed the behaviors and actions of people. I used to study people intensely. Noting aberrations in their behavior and attempting to associate those changes with elements in their lives. Some of the sources I identified seemed unlikely at first but over time I was able to validate them. The sun, geo-magnetic, the weather, group thought, and the collective subconsciousness were some that I found. The organic material from which people are constructed can be influenced by a variety of things including the thoughts of others, words, sights and other types of radiation. My study was not unique, other people had performed similar studies over the years. My study was only to benefit myself. I am a curious creature and somewhat an anomaly. I don't have the typical background most creatures have and that is both an advantage and a restriction. In me the restriction manifests as ambivalence. I do not feel the connectedness to life that those around me seem to experience. Life is a process to me. The body I use for my studies is not mine. It was rented from the Bodies-R-Us shop near the big city. Most of the bodies were too expensive for me but this one seemed just about right. It previously belonged to a young boy who only used it to do good works. He was an innocent of sorts. He had barely reached puberty and his mind was well developed. Like all rentals there were insurance policies required and a return date. I signed the forms but indicated that I wasn't sure when I would be finished. The return date was left open.

During my studies I performed some experiments to determine and test various hypothesis and theories I developed. The most profound of these was that life was a surface effect caused by the interference of energy that was reflected back onto itself. Finding a suitable environment to run the test became the biggest challenge. There was this thing called ethics and I honored that. I am not really sure why, perhaps it was part of the rental agreement. I should re-read it someday. I was also bound by other things such as integrity and honesty. Mind you I wasn't unhappy with the constraints but in other worlds they would not have mattered. Life was messy and without them living would have been intolerable. I setup my apparatus and asked everyone who passed by if they would be part of my experiment. Once I had some volunteers I began to 'infect' them with knowledge. Not the usual two plus two equals four stuff. More like electrons are everywhere and in everything including them. Each electron is indistinguishable. Perhaps there is just one electron that somehow manifests everywhere. That kind of knowledge. After a while they each began to manifest the symptoms of enlightenment. Once the fever was raging, I could begin the test. As I anticipated in most of the volunteers, the fever raged for a short while and then ceased. Their minds unable to maintain the state for more than a little while. I thanked them for their time and said they could leave.
There were only two who remained and they both began to burst. This was expected. Their brains were flooded with the infection and the top of their heads were like torches. I asked them to direct their thoughts at each other. The beams began to intersect and an interference pattern emerged. I found it could be manipulated through thought. Each of them had experiences that the beam would bounce off and the resulting reflection would then interfere with the origin beam. At a precise position, the pattern seemed to stabilize and reveal what appeared to be substantial and solid artifacts. Some what crude representations of their experiences. I only performed this particular experiment one time. It is possible that other results may be observed if enough tests are performed. I was never inclined to do so myself.

I am just a guy walking the streets of life. Looking for a place to call home. It wasn't always like that for me. Things are different now yet it is better I believe. Having touched the face of God blinded me and now I wander these streets. A young man who I passed, said “Hey old man, what happened to you?” “I tried to see his face amid the showers of light and falling grace. “Son” I said, “I sought to know God and the sight of it left me blind” “Now all I can see is the face of God in everything.” I turned around and headed down the street. It wasn't bad to be me, in fact it was so very sweet. In my heart I carried the love that blinded me.

The streets of life are filled with many and diverse beings and creatures of all kinds. Some are nearly heavenly and some are so new they have been barely born. There are some who can't yet imagine the stories of life still untold. And some dear God are like me, seeking to know. I felt the backpack straps dig into my shoulders, perhaps it was time again to clean and discard those thoughts and things that I carried with me. I found a bench and opened the pack. So much was inside, memories and facts. I wondered why I felt these important and began to offer them to those who passed by. It was better to travel light.

I stood up at last and shrugged a bit. The backpack was so light, I didn't feel it a bit. It was curious in ways this journey through life. Its streets and ways held stories and promises, places to rest and dream. For some this journey is a trip fantastic, to others merely a dream. To some the streets of life are where reality is sometimes mean. Travelers come and go, each with ideas, promises to hold, using love as gold. Everything has a price here and everyone has something to sell.

I headed down the street with the light flashing in my eyes. This was a place where travelers meet and find a life. I felt a breeze rustle feelings like leaves on trees. A soft dewy kiss of wonder touched me and left me tingling inside. I wasn't sure where I was going but I knew the streets of life were where I would be, a guy walking to somewhere. I heard the sound of laughter and the cries of glee. There in a park were children playing a game that would shape their dreams. I watched them for a while and remembered the years gone by. “Hey old man” someone said, “are those tears in your eyes?”

Prayers and supplications were being offered in a church nearby. I thought it might be good to get some but the price was to high. I had given away all the things of value on that bench to lighten my load. Perhaps, I thought, it wasn't me that was growing old. I continued on my way through streets and by ways. I crossed several bridges and highways until I found myself on a small path. The streets of life behind me, I sighed and tried to see. The sky was full of color and the land was pretty as could be. I rested for a moment beside a great and ancient tree. I probably feel asleep and probably had a dream.

I am just a guy walking the path back home. I have seen the face of God and I most often travel alone. I am not sure where I am headed but the way seems familiar. I see by the look on your face that we have met before. You are so beautiful and young, I wonder what you see. You reach out and take my hand, and smile. The light breeze rustles your hair and drops of awe begin to fall. It is barely summer and already the moment is warm and starting to thaw. “It isn't far” I heard you say. “come lets play” I dropped my backpack and took off my shoes. We ran into the field and let the richness of being dance round us. After a while we rested from our play. We found an ancient tree and beneath its wisdom we slept, the ever dream.

This is the story I found one day while walking the streets of life. It was near some old tree and the statues there of wood carved to resemble beings of light. I marveled in its discovery and wondered if trees might dream?